


the precipice of dawn

by celestialfics



Category: New Avengers (Comics), Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Assassins & Hitmen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 20:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17352155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialfics/pseuds/celestialfics
Summary: When a neighboring kingdom issues a threat against Prince Theodore's life, most dismiss it as all talk. Billy, however, is tasked with the job and has hardly anything to lose.





	the precipice of dawn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sleepyneko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepyneko/gifts).



> i pray they will announce the creative team for the new young avengers run every day. but until then... here's this  
> a present for my dear friend koneko <3
> 
> title from oh no by soy christmas

Flames flicker in their holders along the walls of the corridor, casting dull shadows in every direction. Between the candles hang tapestries on the interior wall, all red and purple colors bleeding into deeper, darker hues. The night is one of a new moon, so no pale light leaks in through the windows.

It hadn’t been especially hard to get into the castle. Guards were positioned at every entrance, of course, but nothing longer than a few hours of observation clued Billy into which guards were the weaker links. The guard at the southwest entrance dropped soundlessly to the cobblestone after Billy covered the guard’s mouth with a gloved hand mumbled a sleeping spell under his breath.

Now he creeps through the halls, his deep blue cloak wrapped around his shoulders with the hood pulled over his head. He sticks close to the walls with his hand resting lightly on the handle of his dagger, ready to pull it out at any moment if need be.

Billy’s boss—Moridun, a selfish bastard with one hand wrapped firmly around everything Billy has ever owned and the other clutching a contract Billy had signed when he was thirteen, homeless, and starving—had neglected telling him much more than that he is to kill the heir to the throne, a prince named Theodore who is of similar age to himself. Moridun had mentioned that the prince’s room would be located somewhere on the fourth floor of the castle and that it would be heavily guarded.

Billy’s on the third floor now, approaching the staircase. He treads lightly, soles of his shoes barely scuffing against the stone flooring. He’s already ran into a few guards tonight, but he’s mastered sleep and temporary memory loss incantations by now, so the guards have been nothing more than a minor hinderance. However, Billy’s expecting more of a fight when he gets to the fourth floor.

A few weeks ago, a neighboring kingdom had issued a threat against the prince’s life. Though most assumed that it had been all talk, Moridun had been approached by the king of said kingdom with the request that his best assassin be sent to take out the prince. Billy is far from Moridun’s best assassin, but he’s just turned eighteen and Moridun is eager to prove Billy’s worth to his other employers. The stakes are high—failure will most likely cost Billy his life and success will bring a vast sum of money to Moridun’s pockets, straight from the king.

Moridun is not one to turn down money, regardless of the unique challenges this kind of stunt presents due to the publicity of the initial threat. After all, he doesn’t have to do the real work, whereas Billy’s spent hours scrubbing blood and dirt out of his clothes and has nothing but a heavy conscience to show for it.

He’s not bitter about it, really. Moridun saved his life by taking him off of the streets. Now he’s trained with a valuable skill set including spell casting and combat, neither of which he would have been able to learn on his own.

Or, that’s what he tries to tell himself every time he goes out for a task and questions just why he’s doing it. Because there’s always that voice in the back of his head telling him to run, to get out of here—but where would he go? Nights are cold and food is hard to come by but at least with Moridun, Billy knows he’ll have enough to eat and a warm place to sleep.

He’s just doing what he has to do.

After stepping up the first few stairs, Billy freezes at the sound of voices. They’re too quiet for him to make out the words, but he can pick out three distinct tones. It sounds as if the people speaking are standing at the far end of the hall, so Billy continues quietly on his trek up the staircase.

He steels himself as he gets to the top, attempting to calm the erratic beating of his heart. The people that Billy assumes to be guards will not be moving any time soon, so he’ll have to cast an invisibility cloaking spell on himself and try to take care of them before it wears off. He can’t hold it long without intense concentration, and seeing as he will have to apprehend at least three guards, the odds aren’t particularly in Billy’s favor. He doesn’t have much of a choice though, so he takes a deep breath and murmurs the invisibility spell beneath his breath before he takes a step out into the hallway.

Luckily, Billy only sees three guards at the end of the hall, and they don’t seem to notice his sudden arrival. Still, he starts forward slowly, concentrating on his invisibility. All three of the guards are bigger than him, but he’ll have to catch hold of two of the guards at once and get them under a sleep spell before he deals with the third, while most likely losing his invisibility somewhere amidst the action.

If he makes it out of this alive, Billy is giving Moridun an earful of all the expletives he knows.

One more deep breath, and then Billy is standing almost toe-to-toe with one of the guards. He swallows thickly and then grabs the side of the guards head and pushes him towards another until they’re close enough that Billy can murmur a spell that they’ll both hear. They drop to the ground like dead weights, and Billy knows he’s lost his invisibility, so he pulls his dagger from his belt as he turns to face the third guard.

The guard is faster though, and he immediately pins Billy to the wall behind him. The grip on Billy’s wrist is so tight that he drops the dagger and it clatters against the stone floor, but he hardly notices since the guard has a dagger of his own pressed against Billy’s neck, threatening to draw blood. Billy stares up at the guard’s face, and he blinks rapidly as the face seemingly shifts right before his eyes. Brown eyes change to blue ones, dark hair bleeds to blond, and freckles appear across the bridge of the man’s nose.

Billy swallows and then he says, “You’re the prince — you’re Theodore,” but he’s forced to silence when the knife presses harder against his throat, a silent admission that Billy’s assumption is correct.

“Why are you here?” Theodore asks forcefully, neither of his hands budging from their places, one holding Billy’s wrist and the other holding the dagger to his neck.

Billy weakly lifts his free arm to push back on the pressure Theodore is applying to his neck, scared if he presses any harder Billy won’t be alive for much longer. Theodore’s eyes flick down to Billy’s arm as it moves and he eases the pressure, if only to allow Billy to respond.

“I was hired,” Billy answers, though it’s only a half-truth. He takes a split second to assess the situation, but Theodore has the upper hand and is far stronger than Billy is, so he complies to stay put. He considers muttering out a spell, but the knife against his throat would no doubt be faster than his tongue, so it’s not a risk he wants to take.

“By whom?” Theodore’s jaw clenches, and Billy tears his eyes away and towards the ground.

“You already know.”

Theodore lets out a sharp laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “I assume you were hired to kill me, then.”

Billy attempts to nod, but the blade is sharp against his skin and he quickly realizes his mistake. “Yes,” he rasps.

After squinting at him for a moment longer, Theodore kicks Billy’s dagger out of reach and sheathes his own dagger before using his now-free hand to press against Billy’s mouth to keep him from speaking.

Now that death is no longer so imminent, Billy scans Theodore’s face. He’s stunning — had he and Billy met in any other circumstances, Billy would have considered asking him out for dinner or a drink. But he’s a  _prince_ , so he’s not only completely out of Billy’s league but also someone Billy is supposed to be  _killing_ right now, and he should most definitely not be thinking about this. Especially not as they’re standing close enough that Billy can feel Theodore’s breath on his face and fingers on his lips.

“You can do magic,” Theodore states, and Billy swallows hard before nodding. “Where did you learn it?”

Theodore removes his hand, but only far enough to allow Billy to speak. If Billy were to start a spell now, he’s almost sure he’d be met by a sharp hit to his face. Nonetheless, he hesitates. “Your face changed,” he says in lieu of an answer. “How?”

Theodore blinks at him. “Answer me,” he commands, though his tone has lost its brutal edge.

Billy thinks for a moment. He’s most certainly not succeeding in this mission at this point, and he will have to deal with the consequences of that if he ever gets back to tell Moridun he’s failed. But the best chance Billy has to get out of this alive isn’t to run or to try his luck at a successful spell — it’s to get Theodore’s sympathy.

“When I was an orphan child on the streets without a penny to my name, I was taken in by a man. We live some kingdoms over, but I was born here.” He lets out a shuddering breath when Theodore’s eyes soften slightly. “He taught me everything I know.”

It’s only a second before Theodore’s eyes darken again. “That includes killing?”

Billy purses his bottom lip. Theodore’s eyes flicker between Billy’s rapidly, and when he doesn’t receive an answer, he says, “Why do you do it? You’re so young.”

“It’s all I know,” Billy answers truthfully, “It’s the only way I can stay fed and off the streets.”

Theodore stares at him. “You don’t really believe that,” he says.

Billy looks back at him with wide eyes.

“Only certain people are able to harness magic. Surely, you know this?” Theodore phrases it like a statement but says it like a question, and Billy’s mouth feels like it’s full of cotton.

“What?”

Theodore lets out a frustrated breath. “Who is this man that took you in?” he asks, his grip on Billy loosening.

Fleetingly, Billy thinks about dropping down to the floor and reaching for his dagger, slashing Theodore’s leg with it before running off. But what Theodore had said—it startlingly makes sense to Billy. Billy had never seen or heard of Moridun using magic when Billy wasn’t around, and the other assassins had often kept their distance from him.

So, he lets out a long breath. He’d always had a voice in the back of his head telling him to run, and now the doors are wide open.

“Moridun,” he says, and it feels like washing blood off of his hands. The red stains for days, but the initial stickiness is gone.

Theodore swears under his breath and lets go of Billy completely. He could break for it right now, though when he looks to Theodore, despite always wanting to run, Billy strikingly wants to stay. He just knows he doesn’t deserve to stay. His heart bangs in his chest and he slides down the wall, his knees pulling to his chest. The guards he’d put to sleep still lie still on the floor.

“What’s your name?” Theodore asks, settling on the floor beside him.

“Your self preservation skills are lacking,” Billy responds, looking over at Theodore, who’s close enough to touch. “You seem to have forgotten why I was sent here.”

Theodore clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Did I forget, or have you changed your mind on your goal?” he asks. “I’ve given you plenty of chances.”

Billy stays silent, but a smile tugs at Theodore’s lips. Billy thinks about that mouth bleeding out red and rips his gaze away.

“Billy,” Billy answers finally, and then he dares to ask, “What are you going to do with me?”

Theodore bites at the inside of his cheek. “Answer me honestly, Billy,” he starts, and Billy looks back to him. “Do you want to go back to Moridun? Do you want to keep living the way you’ve been living?”

Billy’s answer is immediate: “No.”

“Then, on my life,” Theodore starts, and Billy wonders if he sees the irony in the phrase, “I will keep that from happening.”

The words, for all they’re worth, feel like coming home. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/liquidsaints) & [tumblr](http://liquidsaints.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading! <3


End file.
